Like A Hurricane
by Maxie Kay
Summary: A WHN for Hand to Hand, Can Kensi and Deeks really felt about one another. Can they manage to deny the attraction between them or should they just give in to the inevitable?  CH 7 is hot and steamy and rated M. PLEASE REVIEW!
1. Chapter 1

**Like A Hurricane**

**An NCIS: Los Angeles Fanfiction**

**A prelude to Personal Questions**  
><strong>and part of my KD Universe**

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><p>Another story that was inspired by a song on my IPod - the wonderful Like a Hurricane, by the incomparable Neil Young. This story takes place before the other installments in my Kensi and Deeks universe and can be read as a stand-alone.<p>

What happened after Hetty left Deeks in the bar, after persuasing him to join NCIS as LAPD liaison officer? How did he feel about joining the team and becoming Kensi's partner? And exactly what did Kensi think about it all?

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><p>He signed the form she'd pushed across the bar, signed it because there really didn't seem to be an option to do otherwise. Marty scrawled his signature and watched as Hetty added hers as witness. Her face was carefully impassive, not giving anything away.<p>

"How will your team feel about this?" he asked, taking another long draft of coffee, needing the caffeine kick more than ever. Sometimes it felt like the whole world was taking it in turns to line up and kick his butt into next week.

"My team will see the benefits." Hetty spoke in absolutes, he'd noticed that.

"I guess my department will too. The benefits of getting rid of me." He turned to look at her. "I'm not sure if you really know what you're getting into, Hetty. I've not exactly made a lot of friends among the shields."

She regarded him curiously. "And does that bother you? Was that why you joined the LAPD – to win a popularity contest?"

"You've seen my file. And I'm guessing there's a whole lot more information about me that's passed across your desk. So let's not start playing any games." Marty was pissed now and couldn't be bothered to pretend.

"I have indeed seen your file. And that is precisely why I determined you would be the ideal fourth member of the Special ProjectsTeam. Your skills and contacts are impressive."

"I impressed you? Would you put that in writing for me, Hetty? Just so I can produce it as a reference when you break the bad news to your guys. They didn't exactly go out of their way to make me feel welcome." The coffee was finished now and he contemplated ordering another one.

"I think I can leave it to you to make your own mark, Mr Deeks. I am looking forward to welcoming you tomorrow morning. Don't be late."

She'd left shortly after that, leaving Marty Deeks staring at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar and wondering what the hell he'd got himself into. Although, there were some very definite benefits to this new gig. Benefits in the form of one NCIS agent by the name of Kensi Blye.

Marty had sussed her for an agent the moment she'd walked into the Blood and Guts Gym with her phoney lines about just wanting to see the place where her poor dead boyfriend used to work out. It was so obviously a set-up it just screamed "fake"! Only the rest of the guys were too busy eyeing her up and down with their tongues hanging out to work that one out. Mind you, nobody have ever claimed that you had to be a rocket sceintist to join the Marines. It had been so blindingly obvious to Marty though, especially as it was the sort of lame cover-story he kept being assigned by his bosses. So he'd been deliberately unphased by her obvious charms and challenged her from the outset - and that had thrown her completely. Kensi Blye was clearly used to getting men exactly where she wanted them. And when he'd done his best to be obstreperous, Marty had seen the look of panic flicker in her eyes, just for a second and he'd enjoyed the feeling of power that gave him. It appeared that not very men said "no" to Kensi Blye.

Well, she'd have to get used to it, if they were going to work together. He wasn't interested in her at all. Not for one second. He knew all about women like her and how to play them – the charming smile, the off-hand remarks, the mild flirting that would drive her mad when he never actually took it to the next stage. This looked like it might actually be fun. Kensi Blye had no idea what she was letting herself in for. It would be interesting to see just how long she could retain her superior attitude for.

Smiling at the thought, Marty picked up his jacket and started walking towards his car. There were a lot of things to think about. Things that would probably seem a lot less important after a few beers. And he knew of just the place.


	2. Chapter 2

Kensi liked a challenge – she always had. No, it was more than that – Kensi positively relished a challenge. If at first you don't succeed, make damn sure you do better the next time was her motto. And what was the point in false modesty? She knew men found her attractive and she'd used that to her advantage in several operations. And in real life. So why was she so hung up on the one guy who had not only been impervious to her charms, but had actively resisted them? Exactly who was Marty Deeks and why did he seem to have this unnerving ability to get right underneath her skin and niggle away at her?

_And why can't I stop thinking about him?_

There was no-one else around, so she pulled up the fake drivers ID and stared at it again, absorbing all the details, gazing at his face. The way he looked into the camera was almost as if he was challenging her. And it didn't help that he was exactly her physical type – tall and slim, tanned, blue eyes and with slinky hips and wonderful hair. Kensi was a sucker for hair, and Callen and Sam were only too aware of it. They'd even joked about the fact that they both felt compelled to keep their own hair short (or in Sam's case completely non-existant) just to ward off her advances. It was one of those in-jokes that teams shared, that helped them bond together. But when they'd ribbed her about falling for Deeks' eyes and hair, the truth had hit home with a vengeance. And she'd been trying to deny it ever since.

If she'd blown it the first time they met, then she'd made a complete fool of herself the second time around. In fact, Kensi had fluffed things so badly that Callen had been forced to pull an improntu rescue mission, like she was someprobie straight out of training. Kensi cringed as she remembered the ridiculous cover story she'd been forced to pull out of thin air. Emailing nude photos of herself? Like some gawky teenager? The look in Deeks' eyes when he considered that painfully obvious lie, the way a half-smile pulled at his mouth… If Callen hadn't rung the doorbell at that precise moment and announced her cab had arrived, she didn't know what would have happened.

However, Kensi did know what she had wanted to do. More than anything else she had wanted to slam Marty Deeks into a wall and force one arm up behind his back and then turn him around and kiss him like he'd never been kissed before. Just so he would never forget her. Not for any other reason at all. And certainly not because just thinking about him and imagining pressing her body close against his and felling his tongue in her mouth was driving her insane.

_I'm losing it_.

Kensi felt like hitting her head off the desk. How come this cocky, arrogant cop had wormed his way into her thoughts?

_He's not that great looking. Apart from his smile. And his eyes. And his cute butt. And that hair. And I'm obsessed. I need help here._

It didn't help that his photo was still on her PC screen, staring right at her, as if he could read the thoughts in her mind. There was only one thing for it. Rather like hair of the dog, only non-alcoholic. Although alcohol might help. Even Kensi sometimes needed a little Dutch courage. But desperate times called for desperate remedies.

"Janna? It's been ages. You wouldn't happen to be free tonight, would you? There's this guy I need to get out of my head before I go crazy."

It had been a long time since Kensi and Janna had pulled their double-act and gone out prowling around the clubs, but tonight was going to be a night LA would not forget in a hurry.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Three – and things might just be about to get steamy. The plot bunny wants some action, you see.**

_This story uses themes from my Kensi/Deeks universe, so first time readers might want to read the prior stories, starting with __**Personal Questions**__, which explain how Michael Brandel became Marty Deeks and just how he has all that money._

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><p>Well-off the beaten track, the club was exclusive in that you had to be a personal friend of the owner to get in. And once inside the drab, non-descript building you were assured of privacy and just about anything else you craved. The interior of DMs was a world away from its former purpose, with a series of wide-open spaces inside an old warehouse, with wooden floors, leather seats and, most important of all, plenty of strategically sited places where one could retreat for whatever purpose two consenting adults wished to engage in. The key-theme was discreet luxury, cunningly disguised as mild depravation. The laws had been circumvented by clever legal trickery, designating the club as a private residence, which meant that this was one of the few places where cigar smoking could still be indulged in. And if other substances were also being consumed, a blind eye was turned. It was the perfect adult playground, and it was the place you went to when you didn't want to be seen. Which suited Deeks right down to the ground.<p>

"We haven't seen you here for a while, Mikey. Or is it still Marty these days? I find it hard to keep up with your complicated life." Dave eased himself into a chair next to his oldest friend. "Count me in. Five card stud?" As part-owner of the club, he was assured of a seat at any card game taking place on the premises.

"As ever. Do you really have to ask? We've been playing the same game ever since you set up that first card-school behind the music department at prep school." Deeks took a long pull of his beer and then replaced the cigar in his mouth. "And call me whatever you want. Most people do that anyway." He picked up his cards and studied them laconically before throwing down a handful of chips. "I'm in. And I'm still going to beat your ass, Dave. Some things never change, do they?"

Dave grinned. "One of these days you're going to have to control that smart mouth of yours, or you'll get in so much trouble even the Brandel money won't be able to buy you out of it."

"Like that's not happened already? You've no idea how much my life sucks." He surveyed his cards once more, before placing them face down on the table.

Taking a quick scan of the room, Dave leaned forward. "I don't know about that. I think your luck's about to change. Over there, by the bar. There's a brunette who's been checking you out since she came in. She can't take her eyes off you, mate. She's pretending to dance with her girlfriend, but she's totally hooked on you. This could be your lucky night."

Leaning back in his chair, cigar firmly clamped between his teeth, Deeks saw Kensi Blye across the hazy crowded bar. The lights caught her eyes and a flash of fire seemed to ignite them as she realised she'd been totally made.

"Of all the bars, in all the world, she had to walk into yours, Dave."

"You still suck at impersonations, Mikey. Better give it up as a lost cause. You know her then?"

"We've met. She likes to think she's some kind of ball-breaker. How come she got in here? I thought this was supposed to be strictly members only. Your standards are slipping." Deeks could feel his blood pressure starting to rise. This was supposed be his place, his refuge from the world. He'd been happy to put up half the money and let Dave take care of the management side, but maybe he was going to have to start to take more of an interest in the day to day running of things. If this gig with NCIS didn't pan out, her might just do that.

"Her friend looks kind of familiar. I think I might have slipped her my card." Dave sounded apologetic. "Is this going to be a problem?"

A slow, lazy grin crept across Deeks' face as he watched Kensi get so flustered she nearly fell off her high heels. This might just be fun. "Nope. No problem at all." He waved casually at Kensi and even the cigar smoke and dim lighting could not obscure the way her cheeks flushed. "This might just be fun."

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><p><em>Watching Hand to Hand, it struck me how much Kensi focused on Deeks – like she had him in her sights from the start – while he just seemed to tease her. So this story is just a little personal indulgence and will be fairly short and sweet. It might also be raunchy… Not much potential for a maim though – as yet. But who can tell?<em>

_If you like – please review!_


	4. Chapter 4

**Part Four – the exchange of significant glances. Things are starting to really hot up now. Future chapters may require a higher rating… Blame the plot bunny, not me. He's sitting here gazing me up adoringly and I am powerless to resist.**

_This story uses themes from my Kensi/Deeks universe, so first time readers might want to read the prior stories, starting with __**Personal Questions**__, which explain how Michael Brandel became Marty Deeks and just how he has all that money._

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><p>It had been a great evening, right up to the point where she saw her nemesis on the other side of room. Janna always knew the best places to go, and this club was no exception.<p>

"How come I've never heard of DMs?" Kensi had asked, mulling over her wardrobe choices. Should she go for tight, skin tight or verging on the obscene?

"Clearly you don't move in the right circles." Janna knew pretty much everyone who was worth knowing. At just under six foot, with a smooth fall of naturally red hair that just grazed her butt, she was a familiar sight on the party scene. "And go for the body-con dress. With your hair up. Tonight we're going for full-on sexuality. We're going to leave those rich guys crying in their beers and begging for more!"

"Are you sure?" Kensi looked at the scarlet dress Janna had brought over. There wasn't a whole lot of it.

"I'm positive." Janna looked at her friend. "Going all coy on me, Kensi? Okay – tell me all about it. Who was he and what's he done to the Kensi I know and love?"

"He's nobody. He's less than nobody." Kensi made up her mind there and then. Okay, the dress left less than nothing to the imagination. And there was no way she could wear any underwear with it, but so what? She had a great body and tonight she was going to show it off. And once Janna had piled her hair up in artful disarray, with just a few tendrils escaping to frame her face, even Kensi had to admit that she looked pretty damned hot.

Yes, everything had been perfect and heads were turning and Kensi was experiencing that familiar sense of power and she was loving it. She'd only just walked in the door and at least six hot guys had virtually pounced on her. As a concession, she let the blond in the Armani suit buy her a drink and took the opportunity to check him out while he was ordering from the bartender. Yes, he checked out nicely, both front and rear. Kensi caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and approved of the way they looked together, her dark hair complementing his fairness. Unless something better came up, this guy might just be going home with a friend tonight.

And then her dream shattered. AS she looked at her own reflection, she caught sight of something that made her heart do a back-flip. Sitting in the distance was a very familiar figure. Kensi turned around, hardly daring to believe her eyes.

"Holy crap." It was him. That bloody Marty Deeks was here, lounging back in his chair as if he owned the place and wearing a white shirt and the most amazing pair of faded jeans that clung to every curve of his legs and just made his package look too good for words. In a room full of people dressed to the nines, he stood out simply because he was confident enough not to bother. And that excited her even more.

"Cute blond guy on your radar?" Janna knew Kensi's tastes. "Oh my. He's drop dead gorgeous. Mr Armani's not going to be happy, is he?"

"I'm not interested," Kensi mumbled sulkily, watching as Deeks chatted and drank beer and played cards and smoked that obscenely huge cigar and never once looked in her direction. Bloody typical. Half the guys in the club practically had their tongues hanging out and he had to ignore her. Maybe he was gay? Yes, that had to be it. What other possible reason could there be?

Kensi wasn't going to waste her time. She turned around so fast that she almost fell over. And of course that was the point where he looked up, just as she made a complete idiot of herself and spilt half her drink over herself. Their eyes met in the mirror and as Marty Deeks raised one hand in a casual salute and flashed his most winning smile Kensi could feel her cheeks burning and her loins melting with lust.

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><p><em>If you like – please review!<em>


	5. Chapter 5

**Part Five: Dancing In The Dark Can Be Dangerous. Kensi finds it can be murder on the dance-floor when you're not quite sure what the rules of this game are. Nothing explicit. Not yet, at any rate.**

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><p>"Let me." Marty pulled out a pristine white handkerchief and started to dab at the worse of the spill as Kensi stood stock still, too shocked to even protest at the way his hands was patting her body. "I do like to be prepared and my mother was a huge fan of Beatrix Potter, so it kind of gets ingrained." He let his hand rest softly on her breast, and felt her nipple instantly harden.<p>

"Beatrix Potter?" She looked completely puzzled and Marty almost felt guilty. This was too easy.

"Peter Rabbit? No? Never mind. You weren't a Girl Scout, were you?" He moved his hand fractionally and felt the reaction go through her body.

"No – but what has that got to do with anything?" She was beginning to recover from the shock now, and Marty moved his hand before she could slap it away, offering her the handkerchief so she could continue to mop up the drink.

"I was just wondering if you were prepared."

"For what?" She'd bent her head, but he could still see how flushed her face was, and the way the colour seeped down her neck to the curve of her breasts. Which weren't at all bad, he realised. Perhaps a little on the small side, but high and full, fitting into his hand perfectly.

"That's the question, isn't it?" He leaned forward and smiled at her. "So - are you prepared, Ms Blye? For whatever happens?"

"Nothing is going to happen!" She thrust the handkerchief back at him angrily.

"Are you so sure?" He pushed her hand away. "Keep it. I'm sure you can find somewhere to tuck it in that interesting dress you're almost wearing."

"Which you can't take your eyes off."

"When such an open invitation is extended, it would be churlish to refuse and I'm a gentleman. I never like to disappoint a lady. Shall we?"

Kensi glared at him, aware that this was a game and that he held all that cards. "Shall we what?"

Okay, this was becoming boring. Marty had thought she would have been more of a challenge. "Shall we dance? Or will you fall off those heels again?" This was cruelty to dumb animals. She was looking at him like she was a snake and he was playing some sort of hypnotising tune on his flute. It was time for another change of tactic, just to keep her guessing, to make sure she was just ever so slightly off-balance. "Will you dance with me, Ms Blye? Will you let me dance you to the edge of time?" Yeah, it was a corny line, but he delivered it perfectly, and gazed into her eyes with just the right amount of sincerity, holding them captivefor just a beat too long before dropping his line of vision downwards, as if suddenly bashful.

"Why not?"

Result! That wistful look worked every single time. He'd been practising it since he was a kid and it was second nature to him now, so much so that Marty had almost forgotten just what an effect it could have on a woman when he really worked it. There had been more than a hint of eagerness in Kensi's response and he was pretty sure her eyes weren't just dilated because the lighting was dim.

On the dance floor he let his hand trail slowly across her bare shoulders and then right down her arm, so that just his fingertips grazed her skin. He could almost feel the trail of goose-bumps left in their wake.

"This is just a game to you, isn't it?" She looked up at him angrily.

Marty threw back his head and laughed. "Why so suspicious, Kensi? You've been coming on to me since the moment we met and now you've finally got me right where you want me." And then he took hold of her hand and pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her waist and pressing his entire length against her. "Don't tell me you're afraid?" he whispered into her ear, making sure his breath flickered across the soft skin of her neck. His other hand moved down to clasp her butt, moulding her into his body and he was smiling as he felt her melt into him. This was sweet. She was sweet. She felt so damned sweet he couldn't actually resist. The rules of the game were whirling right out of the window as he danced slowly with her in his arms rested his cheek fleetingly against her head.

_If you like – please review!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Part Six: I want to love you, but I'm getting blown away.**

Her head was whirling around and it certainly wasn't because of the alcohol. Kensi rested her head against Marty's shoulder and felt her body meld into his. It would be so easy, so very easy just to turn her head and find his lips and escape into sweetness. But he was different – not the usual easy conquest and that aroused a new and much deeper passion in her. She snuggled in a little closer, feeling the heat that arose through the thin white cotton of his shirt, experiencing the urgency in the way he pressed his hips against her so that she could feel his arousal. His hand tightened a little, clenching and kneading her buttocks and it was only with difficulty that Kensi managed to restrain the groan that thrust its way up her throat.

"You're beautiful," he murmured and Kensi's heart leapt into her throat for just a second, until she realised that he was just echoing the words of the song playing. And she knew she was being played as expertly as a precious violin, that he knew exactly how to ring the sweetest notes out of her. And yet…

_I want him. I want him right now. I've never wanted any man quite so much. And what are the changes we'll ever meet again? LA's a big city. If I don't do this now, I'll regret it for the rest of my life._

It was so easy to reach up and clasp her hands around his neck, to tilt her head up towards his face and stare directly into his gaze, challenging him, daring him to continue with this highly-charged game. Looking into his eyes was the most dangerous thing she had ever done: they seemed to see right through all her defences into the core of her essence. Kensi let one hand stroke languorously upwards, caressing the nape of Marty's neck while at the same time compelling him to maintain eye contact.

_I could drown in those eyes. And I'm going to die if you don't kiss me. Can't you see how much I want you? How very much I need you?_

And there was that moment, that singular, perfect moment, just before their lips met, when time just slipped away and there was no-one else, no other reality other than the heat and the palpable tension between them. And then there was reality and that was even better. His hands, roaming all over her body, not caring that anyone could see them. And the look on his face, when just for a moment he let that mask slip and allowed her to glimpse the man behind the façade. That, more than anything else, did it.. Vulnerability, the sense that he was just as easy to hurt as anyone else, that there was a real person there, who had real emotions and who was willing to let her in. It was as if a thunderbolt rocked her whole consciousness, blowing away any semblance of self-control and Kensi felt her whole body become aflame with desire. She was tipping over the edge.

_I want you now. Right now. I need you right now or I'm going to implode._

And then, just when Kensi felt that she could not repress her feelings for one moment longer, Marty bent his head and kissed her. His lips were soft and urgent, increasing in pressure and pushing her towards a point of no return; his tongue was darting and flickering and teasing and all the time Kensi could feel a pulse hammering and thundering through her veins so loudly that it was a wonder the rest of the club could not hear it. And she knew she was in the centre of a maelstrom and that she should get out while she could still stand up – but she couldn't. If there was suddenly an earthquake, Kensi knew that she would stay exactly where she was. Everything else was a hazy fog and the only reality she could perceive was the man she was clinging on to.

"Do you want to go somewhere more private?" His voice was husky and the words were accompanied by a tilt of his pelvis that nearly drove Kensi right over the edge and down into oblivion. They had barely kissed and she was already at the cusp. How much more could she take?

"Show me." It was not so much of a request as a command. And as Kensi glanced up at his face she suddenly realised how much power she actually had and felt a new sweetness and an awareness of the power she could arouse suffuse her soul. She pulled away from his embrace and, still holding onto his hand, began to walk into the shadows.

"My pleasure." His grip on her hand tightened and they walked off the dance floor together. And it was crazy, but Kensi knew it was entirely right.

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><p><em>If you like – please review! Or the evil plot bunny might just bound back in amd make everything go horibly wrong. It's entirely up to you. Or we could just end this right here?<em>


	7. Chapter 7

**Part Seven: Ever Fallen In Love With Someone You Shouldn't Have Fallen In Love With?**

_The course of true love never did run smoothly. Sometimes, no matter how good the moment is, there are lingering regrets and you are left longing not for what was, but for what should have been. Which is a poetic way of saying – the wait is over. I let the plot bunny read this and his poor little eyes almost crossed over completely with the shock of it all. I do hope it was worth it. Anyway, this chapter is rated M, so be warned._

_This is a longer chapter than planned, because I couldn't split it. For that reason the interior viewpoints of Kensi and Marty switch about, rather than previous chapters which dealt with one person's perspective._

_Anyway - I've loved every minute of writing this one. Let me know what you think, please!_

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><p>Marty led her into an alcove that had a corridor leading of it; a secluded dimly lit corridor, walking ahead with his golden hair gleaming like a beacon. Kensi followed almost despite her better judgment. She'd gone out with express purpose of finding a man and she'd got her wish. But this felt different. This wasn't how she'd wanted it be with Marty, this wasn't how her fantasy of being with him panned out at all. With a shock, Kensi realised that she wanted a whole lot more from him, like a relationship, not just casual, meaningless sex. Only, as that clearly wasn't on offer, she'd take what was. Because basically she wanted him so much that just looking at his butt was making her so hot and randy that it was untrue.<p>

"Well?" Marty invited and, just for a moment, felt like a complete heel. And the next moment realised that Kensi was using him just as much as he was using her. That they were two consenting adults and nobody was being forced to do anything against their will. Sometimes quick and dirty sex was just what you needed, a brief coupling and then you could both just walk away without looking back and with no regrets or hidden dreams on either side. And as much fun as the prelude had been, Marty was ready for to take things to the next level and get some real action. And it wasn't like he was forcing her, or anything like that. It was more that he was basically helpless where she was concerned and that was dangerous. Marty didn't normally let himself get involved like that. Only he couldn't resist her.

Leaning back against the wall, Marty reached up and tugged at the clip holding Kensi's hair in place, so that it tumbled down around her shoulders in disarray. This was like one of those erotic dreams, he thought, pulling her close, forcing her to kiss him, tangling his hands in her hair so that she could not pull away. And if he was just a dreamer, then she was just a dream. An exceptionally hot dream, who could still manage to take him by surprise, returning his kisses with equal vigour, grinding her body against his, and moaning when she felt how hard and ready he was, running her hands up and down his groin. Shifting her weight onto one foot, Kensi eased her other leg up and around his waist and gave a groan of pure pleasure when his hands encountered her bare, exposed flesh.

And that took him completely by surprise, finding the smooth skin of her ass right in his hands, with no panties to impede his progress. Marty let one hand remain kneading her flesh, while the other slipped tantalisingly along the skin of her inner thigh, pausing for just a second. Kensi's reaction was immediate, altering her stance so that his fingers were roaming over her moist welcoming flesh. She was filling his mind and the way she sighed into Marty's ear was almost as good as the silky sensation of her.

"You lied," he murmured, teasing her, moving faster and then slower and then moving his hand away altogether. "You said you weren't prepared, Fern."

Her head whipped back. "I told you not to call me that." She ground down onto his hand again, at the same time leaning forward and biting his lip so ferociously that she drew blood.

"Enough." Marty pulled back. "I'm not into that. Major turn-off, in fact."

Her eyes were wide and wild, challenging him. "I give as good as I get." Kensi's fingers were tugging at his belt, unzipping his jeans and the moan of pleasure she gave when she finally held him in her hand was almost as deep as the sigh he made in unison.

"Don't make promises you can't possibly keep, Kensi. You ain't seen nothing yet."

The things his fingers were doing almost made Kensi loose control of herself and she could feel every pulse point in her body. Her skin seemed to be hypersensitive and every touch of his hands just drove her desperate frenzy higher. Even the sight of the blood at the corner of his mouth turned her on and her tongue darted forward and licked the blood trickling down the corner of his mouth. "This isn't about you. It's just about sex. Nothing more."

Marty grabbed hold of the hair at the nape of her neck and slid into her. "Try telling yourself that often enough and you might just start to believe it. But remember: you could be anyone to me."

"Cocky bastard." Kensi just managed to force the words out, tightening the grip of her thigh around his waist, holding onto him, moving with each slick thrust, covering his lips with hers so that he took her cries into his mouth.

He broke free for a moment and stared into her eyes. "But you'll never have anything as good as this ever again, darling." And then he moved faster and harder until she cried out and then collapsed in a boneless heap against him, her hair falling across his face. Marty could feel the damp glow of her perspiration against his cheek and he held her tight as their breathing slowly returned to normal.

Kensi ran her hands through his hair, pulling it back from his face and she smiled. "That was as good as I dreamed. Maybe even better. It's almost a pity we'll never meet again." She leant forward and kissed him slowly, relishing the feel of him, almost revelling in it.

Marty smiled back at her. "Isn't it just? It could have been fun. Until the next time, Kensi."

"There won't be a next time," Kensi assured him, adjusting her dress and patting her hair back into some semblance of order, wishing she could find the courage to tell him that she wanted to make love to him over and over again. She was shocked to realise that sex wasn't enough with Marty Deeks, that she wanted a whole lot more. Only it was too late, she'd burnt her boats. "I told you that."

"You never know when we might run into one another." He leant forward and kissed her. This time the kiss was different – it wasn't urgent and rough; it was tender and lingering and one might almost have said it was loving, if you didn't know any better. "And do this all over again for old times sake. Never say never. Take care, Kensi."

"You too, Marty." She didn't want to go, didn't want it to end like this. Why couldn't he just take her home and then they could spend the rest of the night making love and he could blow her mind apart again and again and again. But he was already turning to leave.

"I've got a big day ahead, tomorrow. I'm joining a new unit." It would have been so easy to stay. Only he'd have had to explain things to her, and that would ruin everything.

"Good luck." She kissed him again, this time on the cheek, aware of the rules of the game, knowing she had to put some distance between them. It was hard realising that she would never see him again, far less feel the way he moved inside her and made her feel as if the whole world was going to explode.

"Thanks. I've got a feeling I'm going to need it." At the end of the corridor, Marty stopped for just a second, turned around and smiled. "I'll be seeing you, then." Kensi nodded briefly, aware of a pang of sadness. She wanted to run after him, to throw caution to the winds and just be with him again. But that wasn't how these encounters went. Everyone knew that and she was a veteran of the brief encounter. You weren't supposed to get involved. That was against all the rules. This was different, though. This felt as if she had lost the best thing she'd never had and for a moment, Kensi felt like weeping.

As he walked back into the club, Marty found he was really looking forward to seeing Kensi again – and especially the look on her face when she realised she'd been had. All he had to do was make sure she never found out just how much she'd blown him away. But that would be easy. She'd probably shoot him on sight anyway. This probably hadn't been the brightest thing he'd ever done, but God, it had been good. In fact, making love to Kensi, as short and furious as it had been, was as near to paradise as he'd ever experienced. Marty was suddenly aware that he might just have screwed up the best thing he'd ever had. Which was pretty much the story of his life, when all was said and done.

**THE END**


End file.
